Mrs. Dorothy Dubach Wyborny Silvius

Dorothy Dubach Wyborny Silvius died peacefully on January 12, 2012 from complications of pneumonia. Her final days were spent at the hospital with her loving children and caregivers by her side. She is survived by two brothers, Kenneth and Merrill Dubach, and her three children; son, Grant Wyborny married to Monika, living in Walnut Creek, Ca; daughter Lynn Byrnes, married to Fredric "Ric" Byrnes, living in Carmel, Ny; and son, Scott Wyborny, living in Denver, Co. She was the devoted grandmother of three grandchildren, Tessa, J.D., and Justin Wyborny. Dorothy had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 1973 and prior to her death, lived comfortably at home in Walnut Creek, Ca, with dedicated care givers Chai, Aida, Delia, and Terry and her pet dog and cat. Dorothy was born on July 17, 1928, in Detroit Michigan, the first-born of Beulah and Merrill King Dubach. She grew up in Kansas City, Missouri and graduated with a degree in journalism from the University of Missouri, Columbia. She moved to Chicago soon thereafter to began a long standing career as a copywriter for Sears Roebuck, Inc. She met her husband, David Wyborny, in Chicago and they were married in 1949. The majority of her 30+ year marriage to David was spent raising their three children, supporting her husband's career, and working with various charities. She returned to copywriting for Sears in 1965 when the family moved to Barrington, Illinois. In 1980, Dorothy obtained a graduate degree in Social Work from the University of Louisville. In 1982, her marriage to David ended in divorce and in 1984, she married her high school sweetheart, James "Jim" Silvius. They lived in Phoenix, Arizona, where Dorothy set up practice as a social worker and began a successful second career providing marital and family counseling. During this time, Dorothy wrote a weekly column for the local newspaper on mental health and self-published a book on marital therapy called Mind Over Mouth. In 1993, she and Jim moved to Walnut Creek, Ca where they enjoyed retirement and being closer to Dorothy's children and grandchildren. Dorothy's first love was always for her children and writing was a close second. She wrote her memoirs for her children, completing them in 2005, when she was 69. Excerpts are included here if you're interested in further reading. . "All I Am" by Dorothy Dubach I was born in Detroit, Michigan in Royal Oaks hospital, July 17, 1928. The first thing I remember of my early years, was walking along a street in front of my house. It must have been a bedroom-type neighborhood, because, it was just one house after another. No stores, or anything else. I must have decided to return home. So, I turned around to retrace my steps, turned back around the corner, and my street was gone! I didn't panic or cry out. I thought, "you've gotten yourself lost dummy," so what do you do now? I knew where the fire department was, so, I decided to enlist their help. Into the firehouse walks this towheaded kid, saying she is lost. I remember the surprised smiles on those men's faces. I really got a lot of attention that day. I don't remember the questioning, or whether I even knew my address. But, the next thing I remember is being in a car, and being taken up my real street . I remember my mother wasn't mad at me, which surprised me. I don't remember if my brother Kenneth had been born at that time, But probably so, as this would explain how I got out of the house for such a long time, unattended. That's my only memory of my life in Detroit. A lot happened of which I was unaware. I'm told that my father was in a terrible automobile accident, and that when mother was in the hospital, having Kenneth, my father was also the same hospital, in a coma. I'm also told that he was in this coma for 30 days, and probably sustained some irreversible brain damage.. There was no way of knowing, as my parents kept many secrets from me. Perhaps this is the time to give you some background on my parents. They met in Central high school, in Kansas City, Missouri. My paternal Grandfather was principal at the time. Pictures of my father then, show him a very handsome tennis champion, and, according to yearbook clips, a leader academically.. My mother was a year ahead of my father in school. I don't know for what reason. But I do know that my mother was considered very beautiful, It must have been after my father's accident, and my brother Kenneth's birth, that we moved back to Kansas City. It was then 1931, and the nation was in the throes of the depression. The exact chronological order of things then is hazy to me now, but I think my parents rented houses in the area of the elementary school they had chosen as the most suitable area for a growing family. Marlborough Grade school was their choice. I have many memories of these houses, but I can't remember the chronology. I remember a house on a street called Tracy. Then, there was another street called Highland, where the memories are more profuse. It was in this house, on Highland, that I started elementary school. To give you a picture of how we all looked during these years: All the little girls wore lisle, thigh-high stockings, held up by a garter belt. These stockings were always sagging and baggy. Over these we wore cotton print dresses, of a nondescript style, and bloomers of the same fabric as the dress. We wore these bloomers over our underwear, because of course, no one should see a girl's underwear. The boys wore knickers, also with baggy knee-high socks. We wore shoes, not tennis shoes, the girls, patent leather strapped slippers, and the boys wore nondescript oxfords, usually brown, that always looked worn out. I've decided that staying chronological will be just too boring to write, and read. So, I've decided to write subjects. Sometimes they'll bleed, and blend, but for the most part, it will be easier to get through all these years by staying with subjects. I'll try to stay as chronological., within the subjects, as I can. Kenneth Kenneth was more like a sibling, than my child. Our fighting was legend in the neighborhood. (1422 76th Terrace, Kansas City, MO) Kenneth would tease me and tease me, until I'd lose it, and smack him one. Kenneth would then wail loudly for mother, and I'd get blamed. "You should know better. You're the oldest!" It seemed like everything was always my fault, but then, I'm sure all oldest kids feel this way. I have a lot of guilt about some of the ways I treated Kenneth. Our upstairs had two bedrooms and a bath, and had a hall connecting the three rooms with the stairs. This made a circle around which we would chase each other. I remember one such time. He was really mad about something, so angry that he picked up a huge jar of Mentholatum, and threw it at me. I ducked, and the jar hit the door, causing a big dent. That dent is still there, I'm sure. That day, I remember, he was cussing so much (he was young, but he knew the words), that I wrestled him to my bed, threw pillows on top of him, then sat on him. He finally calmed down, He was only 5' 2" when he graduated from high school, and I was 5' 8" at age 12. At the age of 12, I was called "Needles". I'll never forget how amazed I was when Kenneth grew up, and was no longer fighting with me. He went to Kansas University, and I went to Missouri. We both were home at the same time; probably for a holiday. I ran down in the basement (our garage was entered from outside into the basement), to greet him. He got out of the car, and gave me a big hug! That was my first shock. Later that evening, he was sitting in the living room, reading the paper. I waltzed by and snatched the paper from his hands (which was common behavior for us. It usually started a big battle.) Before I knew what happened, I was back in the bedroom, with all the covers over my head, and he was back in the living room, reading the paper. My little brother had indeed grown up. We seldom fought after that. He became the kindest, most generous brother any sibling could want. He has bailed me out of so many financial messes. Merrill I've already talked a little about Merrill, but there's so much more. As I said, I found love, for the first time, when he was born. It was like he was my very own child, and I was only eight years old . I remember one time when he was still a toddler, that somehow, he climbed out of the bathtub, ran outside, and was running up the sidewalk, buck naked. as fast as his little legs would take him. Mom had spotted him, and sent me to catch him. So, after him I went. He looked so cherubic and cute. He knew I was behind him, and he giggled at the game. I caught him all right, but not until he had run across a street to the next block. The streets were just a wider spot with macadam. No curbs, or anything, and hardly any traffic, thank God. I'm sure the neighbors had caught the fun, as I, giggling as much as he, carried this adorable child back home. As we got older, the age-difference separated our lives so much that my memories grow sporadic. I do remember how much the first Pippa played into Merrill's life. (Now, I'm bleeding into Kenneth a little.) Yes, we had a blonde Cocker Spaniel. Kenneth and I used to bathe him in the tub, and we'd put 4% peroxide in the water to bleach his hair. What did we know. We were only 6 and 8. Anyway I remember the time Merrill came walking in, in tears, and carrying a bleeding, dead Pippa. (There were enough cars on our street for that). I was so touched, and so was Kenneth. He had $25, that he'd been saving for a new bike. (Kenneth was born having money), and he immediately bought a new blonde Cocker puppy, and gave him to Merrill. I never could get used to how adorable Merrill was. We used to play with the hose during hot summer days. He wore this cute little bathing suit with a mesh bib I used to love watching him play. This little boy was the beginning of my love for children. I remember my Mother saying (later): "I wish you'd hurry up and get married, so you can have your own kids, and leave everyone else's alone." She was right. When I had you three, I left others alone. Mother As a young woman, Mother went to Europe before she married my Dad. Upon her return, Daddy met her in New York, and they went to Quebec to be married. I always thought this was so romantic. Grandfather Lang was considered quite wealthy, but he lost all but parcels of land in the crash (Invest in land guys). In her diary Grandmother talks about her husband, John's death , her hip or leg problem, etc. Her diary ends with my birth. Mother's diary begins and ends with her trip to Europe. She talks about shopping for her wedding dress in Paris. She mentions that she wore it to the opera with some other guy, and he described her dress as looking like "moonlight on the water". I saw the dress, and it did look like moonlight on the water. It had a chemise underneath, made of green, silver lame', and had a loose overdress of green chiffon, with lots of beading. The hem of this chiffon part swept down on the sides, very reminiscent of the twenties. It was a beautiful dress. In the larger picture album, there's a shot of Mother, in a white dress, holding a banjo. The banjo was around for many years. I remember it vividly. Mother played it, and sang me a song, that I also vividly remember. It went like this: Everybody calls me "Honey". Don't know why they do. Maybe it's because my mammy calls me "Honey" too. Ain't been around no honey bees. 'Fraid that they might sting me. Everybody calls me "honey".So won't you call me "Honey", Won't you call me "Honey Won't you call me honey, too? Boop Boop-be Do.. Mother and Daddy called each other "Honey". I longed to be called "Honey", just once. If I was upstairs, when either Mother or Daddy were looking for one another, they would call out upstairs "Honey"? I remember, so many times, wanting them to be calling me. I'm sure this is why I couldn't stop referring to you three as "honey", even after you asked me to stop. Once, while when we we were still living in the Strieby house and I was sleeping in one of the downstairs bedrooms (right next to Mom and Dad's), I awoke to someone trying to cut my window screen. I sneaked into Mom's room, woke her up, and she called the police. The burglar must have heard the commotion, because by the time we were back at the window, the guy had retreated all the way across the yard, to the orchard. We quietly watched, as he regained confidence, and slowly returned to my window. As he got to within two feet of the window, I was holding my breath, but Mom hollered a loud "BOO", and the guy took off running. By the time the police got there, he was long gone. I have laughed about this all my life. I guess she just felt sorry for the guy. Another time, when we were in the new house, she was coming home from choir practice (walking the few blocks from church), when some guy stopped his car beside Mother, opened his car door, and exposed himself. Mother, of course, didn't know what to do, so she continued walking, while loudly singing "Come To The Church In The Wildwood". The guy closed his car door, and drove on. Another story I've told many times. Daddy I hate that name. But that's what we always called him. He never really functioned too well after his accident. We had no relationship at all. He was just there. Sometimes, he'd wait up for me when I had a date. Probably because Mother had insisted. Mother always made me kiss her goodnight, when I came home from a date. Not because she cared, but because she could tell if I'd had anything to drink. This was never openly stated, but we botfh knew the truth. I dated a lot. I was fairly popular in high school, and that made everything more fun. He ran as City Councilman on the ticket that ousted Pendergast from power. The party used "sweep the city clean" as their slogan, and wore tiny brooms on their lapels. They won, and the famous Kansas City Boss, was no more. Daddy loved playing politician, and playing bridge. Those are the only times he showed any animation. He loved to go to Kansas City Blues baseball games, and he was always trying to get one of us to go with him. As I remember, Mother never went, and this always made him sad. I went with him a few times, but as I grew older, other things interested me more, and I stopped going. While I was in college, The Kansas City Blues became The Kansas City Royals, and I don't remember him having any interest in the Kansas City Royals. Friends I used to meet my best friend, Jeannine Kahn, at the streetcar stop. Jeannine was very short, and, as I said, I was 5' 9" by then. People used to call us Mutt and Jeff. We went swimming at a public, Swope Park swimming pool, almost every day, and we used to love being Mutt and Jeff, and parading around the pool, showing off our tans, and our lithe figures. Jeannine and I continue to be best friends to this day. We were in the same sorority, went to meetings together, did everything together. The most fun thing I remember about Jeannine was, if we got to laughing too hard about anything, she would lose control, and wet her pants. This only made both of us laugh harder. Janet Seiter was also a good friend from grade school. We were very competitive with each other, especially academically. I'm sure this is the reason we both always excelled. I remember that while in 7th grade, we put on a play entitled Hansel and Gretyl. Janet and Jeannine and I got our pictures in the paper painting scenery for this play. (the kids did everything) I so yearned for the lead, Gretyl, but alas, because of my size, they gave the lead to Jeannine. The next most important part, was the witch. So, I went for that one, and got it! I think I was a pretty convincing witch, and enjoyed playing a witch on holloween for years after that. Dating and Crushes The first date I ever had sent Mother into one of her tirades. We had gone downtown shopping for something for me to wear to this very dress-up dance, to which this boy had invited me. He was a JUNIOR yet, and very handsome, a football player, and very popular. And I was just a freshman. His name was Roger Yost. I saw him at the recent reunion we just went to, and he didn't even remember that he was my first date. And of course, there was Jim. Handsome, funny, popular, athletic Jim. I noticed him when I was a sophomore. But he was dating Shirley Bennet. Another life-long friend. Then, I heard they'd broken up. We had Sadie Hawkin's Day dances then, which meant the girls could invite the boys. The very next such dance, Jim got invited. Thus started a romance that was to last until about a year after we graduated. The Depression Even though I never felt poor (perhaps something I should congratulate Mother for), although many times I would come home to lunch, and eat milk, with graham crackers crushed in it, for lunch. We used salt and baking soda for toothpaste, and we never had Kleenex, and always used single ply toilet paper, which I hated the most. We never used butter. Oleo had just been invented. It came in pound packages, only. It looked like a square of lard. Along with this white gucky, came a small yellow pill. It was my job to knead this pill into the white, gucky stuff, until it was he color of butter. I remember many times when men would come to our back door, willing to sharpen knives, or do anything, for food. Mother would open the Ice Box (It really was a refrigerator, but the name was a hangover from the times when men came, regularly, to deliver big cubes of ice that were set in what we now would call the freezer space. I remember those days too.) Anyway, Mom would take all leftovers from the Ice Box, mix them all together in a frying pan, and give the guy a big plate of warm mishmush, which the guy would eagerly eat, while sitting on our back porch. Another sign of the times, was that Mother could have a live-in maid, by only feeding and housing a college student, I vaguely remember a couple of them. So things were pretty bad for others out there, but it didn't really touch my life much. Maybe this is why Mother had the tirades. They always seemed to be about money, and Mother grew up with money. Early Jobs I graduated from Missouri at age 19. It wasn't that I was smart, or anything. I just went straight through, and picked up a semester, each summer. You see, Kenneth was starting premed, and I wanted to alleviate any burden from my folks. After all, my entrance into college was a fluke anyway. I had wanted to be an M.D. too, but mother said, "Why? You'll just get married, and you'll never use it". What's worse was, I believed her! Back to jobs. I graduated from the university, with a B.J. (bachelor of journalism). M.U. was the best journalism school in the country, at the time, and this degree opened many doors for me. I started work for WDAF radio station, in K.C., writing continuity and commercials, and generally being a flunky, for $125/month. I went to work for the Fair Store at State and Adams, in Chicago, as an advertising copywriter. My departments included all men's wear, and first floor women's stuff (cosmetics, jewelry, notions, etc., and books). The buyers of the departments would come up (we were on the top floor with merchandise that they wanted to advertise. We would then write headline and copy for the item, or items. This would then be approved by the Copy Chief, and Ad Manager, as well as the buyer. Then the copy would go back to the art department, where it would go into layout. When the layout (usually a whole page of merchandise with a theme), was approved by everyone, including me, it would go into finished art and type. At Sears, the job was very different. The copywriters first, had to do a rough layout with exactly the square inches of copy space needed for each item. These rough layouts had to then be approved by one's assigned Copy Chief. There were at least, 12 Copy Chiefs. When I first started, they were all men, but this was soon to change.The months at Sears stood me in good stead. My reputation was remembered, and later I was one of two, free lance writers at Sears. David My life with David was so long, and so varied, I don't know where to begin. The first fifteen years of our marriage, were good. Especially the ones with you guys. David's roommate, A.J., was dating my roommate, in Chicago. A.J. was also a fraternity brother. This bunch of Phi Delta Theta fraternity brothers wanted to go skiing for the weekend. David didn't have a date, so he was coerced, against his will, to ask me. A.J. even lent David the nickel with which to call me (yes, it only cost a nickel then I, of course, didn't know all this at the time.) That was it. It was love at first date. This was January. He proposed in February, gave me my engagement ring in March. We would have been married in April, but we were too broke. We were married in October. I was so proud of my diamond solitaire. I used to stare at it all the time. David always used to tease me that my ring was "his car" for which he was saving. He was working at a meat-packing plant (I've forgotten which), as an executive trainee. He had grown up in Waterloo, Iowa, and he and his whole family, worked for Rath Packing Company. So, that's where his experience lay. A few months later, for whatever reason, he took a similar position at Chicago Metal Hose, later renamed Flexonics Corp. Thus began his lifelong career, in metal-working corporations. (There was a ten-year interruption where he worked for Masonite Corporation). He had graduated with a Business degree from Northwestern University, with a summer semester at Harvard, He was a part of the Navy's V-12 program, during WWII, that sent men to school to become officers in the Navy. Luckily, the war was over before he got out of school, but they kept him in the Navy Reserve for many years after that. As a Reserve Officer, he did a 22-month stint in Korea. Then they finally let him out. Reflections on Grant I didn't have morning sickness with any of my pregnancies, luckily, except for one instance : We didn't know it was only going to take me a month to get pregnant. We were living in a third floor, walk up, rent-controlled, one-bedroom apartment (rent-control was a left-over from WWII. I think, for returning vets). Anyway, here I was pregnant, for the first time, not knowing what to expect. Luckily I only suffered nausea, if I didn't eat something, when I first got up). I did have big-time fatigue the first 5 months. I stayed working at Sears, until a month before you were born. There was a couch in the ladies' bathroom, and my fellow copywriter would cover for me, while I went to lie down on that couch. Back then, they didn't take the precautions they do now. I smoked. I drank coffee, and ate chocolate. The only thing I could drink, without getting sick, was a glass of sherry, now and then. Your Dad didn't drink everyday then, like he did later. He didn't start drinking every day, until we moved back to Chicago, from Mississippi. So I guess I was lucky to have had three such healthy babies. As usual, I got side-tracked. I had a fairly uneventful pregnancy. It was your birth that was eventful. I don't remember my doctor's name, but you were born in the Oak Park Hospital, in Oak Park, Ill. Three months before your birth, David had gotten recalled into the Navy, to serve in the Korean conflict. I remember when the letter came, I couldn't understand what it said. I called your Dad, and he wasn't sure either. I happened to be on my way to the Dentist that day, so I took the letter to him. He was an old Navy man, too. He looked at it and said ; Well, it looks like the Navy lets their men be there for the "laying of the keel, but not for the launching". I feared I'd have to have you by myself, but the Navy stayed his orders three months, so he could be there for your birth. You were four days late. Finally, David took me for a long ride, on a bumpy road, hoping that would get things going. It must have worked, because the next night I got a terrible backache, and by the wee hours of the next morning, we were on our way to the hospital On the way there, my pains were already 5 minutes apart but very mild, so I'm thinking, this is a snap! Eighteen hours later, I was thinking differently. My Doctor never made it. I got to see David once. I didn't want to see him anyway. They only allowed you two pain shots, during your whole labor. After about six hours of hard labor, I finally got my first shot and I had finely begun to feel a little better, , they asked me if I wanted to see David., I said no, because for whatever reason, I was afraid seeing him, would make the horrible pain come back. The pain took a visible form. At first, it was a black rectangle, inside of which was a beige triangle. The rectangle, came crashing over my head, and down on the tops of my thighs. During the end, the pain was a totally black rectangle. I finally relented and saw David. I don't remember him saying much. The reason the Doctor didn't make it is that Doctors routinely lounged at home, until the mother's cervix was dilated to a certain point, then they appeared to deliver the baby, and make the $, They insisted parents pay up front. Well, the doctor didn't make it. You were not quite paid for, not until you were about six months old. What were they going to do, keep you at the hospital? Anyway, after 18 hours, I still hadn't dilated enough. The resident was making a routine check of the fetal heartbeat. I heard him say loudly, to the nurse, "There's no heartbeat!" I weakly whined "What's happening to my baby?", and then I passed out. When I woke up, they had taken you with forceps, because the cord had wrapped around your neck, and was stopping your heartbeat.. Thank God, those residents knew what they were doing. David saw all the commotion from the waiting room; people scurrying to get oxygen tanks, etc. He said if he had known it was for you, he'd have probably jumped out the window, or fainted. But you made it. I was so excited, I kept waking up all night long saying elatedly to myself, I've got a boy, I've got a boy! During that month I wasn't working, I got acquainted with other young married women in the apartment complex. Four, or five, of us used to walk about three blocks to the corner drugstore, to have coffee. We didn't know at the time, that it was good exercise. It was just fun. Anyway, the gal right below me had lost a baby before the age of one month, the year before. When we got you home, I was so afraid I'd lose you, I didn't sleep for three days. I just hung over your bassinet, and chewed my nails. Mrs. Wyborny was coming in a few days, to help me (my Mother refused, using my Dad and brother as an excuse). We had purposely given ourselves five days to get acquainted with you. That was a long five days. The only symptom the above-mentioned neighbor gal knew before the death of her baby (I think it was SIDS), was that he'd had a green bowel movement. Well the fourth day, you had a green bowel movement. I collapsed on the bed, praying, dear God, if you have to take him, he's yours. I simply didn't have any more strength to fight. Well, I awoke the next day, and you were fine. I thanked God for hearing my prayers. Then, Mrs. Wyborny arrived, and I collapsed with a fever, from an infected appeziotomy (my dictionary doesn't have this word, no matter what the spelling, but it does exist. It's the incision they give new mothers to alleviate tearing of the vagina, and help the baby's head to crown). Thank God for Mrs. Wyborny. Things went a little smoother after she arrived. I nursed you for a month, or so. Didn't have enough milk, so had to make formula too. You would nurse till you went to sleep, but when I tried to put you down, you would scream from hunger. This double trouble went on until I just gave up, and went to formula. I never tried nursing again. The la leche league helps mothers now. Anyway, I got to be not so frightened to give you a bath, and you got not so frightened too. I started out singing you through it, kinda like an induction, but we both got more used to it, and even enjoyed your baths. You were such a darling baby. Your Dad was not too helpful, so it was an exhausting time. Luckily you slept thru your 10 PM feeding when you were 10 days old. (Every baby was expected to be on a schedule then, and babies were started on baby cereal at age 3 weeks.). Things are a lot different now. J.D.. looked identical to you then. In fact, he does now. It occurs to me that you probably want to know about your life up to age two. You were easy to toilet train, don't remember too much there. All three of you had security items. You Grant, had a yellow, quilted blanket someone had given me. It was made of a knitted, jersey-like fabric. You didn't suck your thumb when you used it, you just had to have it near. By the time you didn't need it anymore, it had been cut into about eight pieces. If you got sick, I'd just cut off the dirty part so I could wash it, and give you a clean part. You started having stomach problems when you were two, actually by the time you could make sounds. You had your first upper and lower barium test when you were two. It amazed me that you could go four hours without eating, without complaining Anyway, they said you had a sagging duodenum, whatever that meant, that you would outgrow it. I think you still have it today.. Reflections on Lynn Before Grant was two, we discovered I was pregnant again. I was content, as we had had to wait until David's ship got home from Korea, and I then had only 3 months before he were gone again. Luckily, I conceived the first month, so poor David had served his purpose. (Having children, and fighting a war, are hard to coordinate). Anyway, the wives in my building had become very friendly, because so many of us were Navy widows. Each of us cooked for the others only once a week. Good deal I was in my second month, and was downstairs in someone else's apartment, having coffee with the wives, when I had to make a fast trip to the bathroom. I was bleeding profusely, and was scared to death I was losing the baby. Someone called my doctor, who said some of her patients had periods every month during pregnancy, but wanted me to come in. The next day, when I got to the doctor's office, she (yes, a woman) said the only reason she was seeing me, was she was afraid my pregnancy was in one of my tubes. She examined me and said, with some astonishment, "You're pregnant, and you're still pregnant" She sent me home with a prescription, and told me to stay in bed till I stopped bleeding. This medicine was the medicine that later became known as causing cancer in the adult girls born to Mothers who were pregnant while taking it. It took me two weeks to hire someone to take care of Grant. A friend cared for him in the meantime. About two weeks after that, I was so weak, I had to stand by the bed to dress, because I was afraid I'd pass out. I called my doctor again, and her response was "Tell her not to call me until she stops bleeding". I was so angry, I started calling other doctors. I found a man who sounded so kind. I continued to tell him what was going on. I wasn't going to tell him who my doctor was, but I slipped, and referred to her as "she". This guy knew immediately who my doctor was, because there was only one female gynecologist in Alameda. Anyway, this kind-sounding doctor spent 45 minutes explaining things to me that day. He said my doctor was doing the right thing, but not what he would do. He said he would have me throw that medicine away, and get out of bed. If it was a good pregnancy, it would survive. If it were a bad pregnancy, he wanted me to loose it before it got any bigger. I did what he said. I was so weak, it took me 3 days to regain my strength, in order to stand. By the time my strength had returned, the bleeding had stopped. I only saw that nice doctor once, before we had to leave for home. But, I really liked him, and he probably saved your life, Lynn. By the time you were born, your Dad had gotten out of the Navy, and we had moved back to Elgin, IL`. We had been living in Oak Park when David had been recalled to Korea, but then the law said companies had to give returning vets an equal, or comparable, job when they returned. So, we were transferred to Elgin. Finding a place to live, was a real battle, because everyone was returning. But we finally found a nice house to rent in South Elgin. After spending 18 hours in labor with Grant, I was expecting the same with you. I had found a nice lady to care for Grant while I was In the hospital (they kept us 5 days back then). She was to come on Monday to meet Grant and me, and to go over his schedule. Unfortunately, my labor pains started a day before (Sunday), . It was 5 AM. Your Dad was still asleep, and I was busily making a list of Grant's daily activities. I had made a pot of coffee, and had settled down to finish my list. My pains always started at five minutes apart, so I had no clue, as to how close I was. I got to 8 AM on Grant's daily schedule for the baby-sitter, when I could stand it no longer, so I woke your father, and we were off, with a neighbor staying with Grant. I had a short bathrobe on, and had the top half of my body face-down in the passenger seat, with my knees on the floor. Halfway to the hospital, my water broke, and I could feel your head crowning through my bathrobe. Your Dad was in a complete panic. Somehow we made it to the hospital, and your Dad collared a Catholic priest to help me get on the gurney, still in the knee-chest position. (It was a Catholic hospital), The poor priest was scared to death. One grunt, and you would have been there. They finally got me to a Nurse/Nun, who got me on the elevator. I was making this guttural sound, in an effort not to push. The dumb nun, told me to hold my breath. How do you hold your breath without pushing? If I'd done that you would have birthed right there, so I continued the guttural sounds. My Doctor, again, did not make it. An intern delivered you, WITH NO APPEZIOTOMY. As Kenneth said, all that guy had to do was catch. Your Dad was still down at Admissions when they came down and told him he had a baby girl. They then had to anesthetize me to sew up the tears, but having no appeziotomy was a lot nicer, as I never had to have an infected stitch again. You were the sweetest baby, Lynn. The first morning you were home, you were still quiet at 8 AM, and I tiptoed in there biting my fingernails with fear. There you lay, sound asleep. You had found your thumb. Most of what I'm going to write here, you may have heard, because we talked more than the boys. As I said at your wedding, you were such a sweetheart, I was sure you weren't going to live long, because I didn't feel I deserved anything so dear. Grant was a dear too, but when he wanted to eat, he would screech until he got food. You were not that insistent. I don't ever remember you demanding anything. You didn't like to stay in bed after you were awake though. However, before you were walking, you would just sing and rock. Your crib would scoot all over the bedroom. After you could walk, I remember You would keep coming down the hall in your pink sleepers.. You would stand there till we saw you, and you would just stand there, expectantly till someone would carry you back. You were hard to make sad. Your Dad used to tease you about leaving you for the garbage man, and silly things like that. It was comical to watch you your face slowly cloud. So slowly. I guess you really didn't believe him. He never let you actually cry without going over to comfort you, but your face was a slow-motion trip. It was irresistible for your Dad not to put you through that. Needless to say, I was mumbling to him the whole time. You sucked your thumb until you were two or three. I was getting worried about your teeth, and you wouldn't accept a pacifier. Nome of you would. Shortly before Christmas, I suggested you might want to give your "bankie", a pink baby gift, to Santa Claus. You were like Linus, and only sucked your thumb when you had your bankie. You thought the Christmas idea was pretty good, but within a week, you were sucking your thumb without your bankie. I backed off that idea real quick. Would you believe that about a month after Christmas, you said "I thought I was going to give my bankie to Santa Claus". I said Ok, and reassured you that anytime you felt the urge to suck your thumb, you were to tell me, and we'd have a nice rock in the rocking chair. I kept your bankie on a top shelf for many months, but you only asked for that rocking chair ride once. I used to watch you fight it in your sleep. Your thumb would come sneaking up towards your mouth, and suddenly you would quickly pull it away. I was amazed.. You finely licked it all by yourself. You were always such a feminine child. Always sat with your ankles crossed, and behaved like such a lady. This amazed me because I was always such a tomboy. Mother was always hollering "Put your legs down, Dorothy!". I don't remember you with dolls much. You were into tea sets, and house-playing stuff. I guess this was because you had Scott so nearby, as a willing playmate. Poor guy. He grew up without playing cops and robbers, much. But I thought it was wonderful! You played together so nicely, I never even knew you were in the house! Grant always had to have his friends over, or be over at their houses all the time. You were the most adorable child. The rest of the memories that pop into my head, I think you ought to remember. Your first piano recital. Your first dance recital. If I think of any more, I'll be back. Reflections on Scott Scott, Scott, Scott. You know the feeling a warm little baby gives you. You've been through it. And you were so precious, I felt guilty for months, because I loved you so much. But things changed. You were growing up. Lynn was still adorable. A bit about my pregnancy. It was uneventful, until the ninth month, when things started popping. I had just been to the Doctor, and found out that I hadn't gained any more weight. It was Sunday night, and to celebrate, I ate a whole big bowl of chocolate ice cream. I was to rue that later. Later that evening my water broke, so I called the Doctor, and he said to come in. After I got there, labor had started, and I bet I vomited chocolate ice cream four times. It was so obvious what it was, I was embarrassed. Anyway, when they took me to the Delivery Room, I warned them I was one of the loud ones, and I was. I guess my tolerance of pain isn't too good, and I did a lot of hollering (each time) So, when I opened my eyes, and looked around, there was a nurse and intern sitting on a bench against the wall. I yelled "Why aren't you doing something"? My Doctor who was against the wall to my feet (I hadn't seen him), said, "We're just waiting for you. You have to push". Boy, that was all I needed to hear. I hadn't been told that before.(There's much information out there now, but we mothers were kept in the dark then.) So, I started pushing like mad, and you popped out within minutes. After it was over, the nurse said, "You're right. You are one of the loud ones. Anyway, I got you, for all my yelling. A beautiful, healthy baby boy A little about birthing back then:. They didn't let the Fathers be there. They didn't warn us off of coffee and chocolate, or smoking. I smoked all through all three of you guys' pregnancies. It's a wonder you weren't deformed. And drinking. They didn't tell us we couldn't drink either. Luckily I could only hold down that occasional glass of sherry. I digress, as usual.. As I mentioned, I laid awake nights, feeling guilty about loving you so much, Scott. You were such an adorable baby. As I was to find out later, you've always been independent, and you were then. You refused to go on a schedule, as all babies were supposed to do then. You definitely made your likes and dislikes known. I got so nervous the doctor said, either take a break, or go to the hospital. I think I had you too soon after Lynn was born. Anyway, to my amazement, your Dad volunteered to take Lynn and Grant too Waterloo, to visit his family. And we, you and I, trundled off to Springfield. I left you with Mom and Dad, and I went to K.C., to spend a week with my roommate from college. This roommate used to be called Annie Love Leach, and Ii called her Lovely. Now that she's married, and a proper K.C. matron, she's called Ann Stapleton By the time I got back to Springfield, Mom had you on a schedule, had you loving your baby food, which you also had been avoiding. That week was what I needed. I don't remember having a problem after that. You continued to be a wonderfully normal little boy, until it came to your toilet training. You had quit wetting your training pants, but you wouldn't quit the other. I was really getting frustrated. Kenneth was visiting us, at the time (before he married Serene, etc.), and he told me you were enjoying the negative attention, that I should cheerfully clean you up, stick you in the tub, with a smile on my face, like it was no big deal. It was difficult, but I did it. In two weeks, you were completely trained. So I got an early respect of your independent spirit. Reflections on Dorothy Until approximately 1964, I really didn't live my life, it lived me. When I was about 35-40 years old, and I said what that guy says, in the movie "Network". "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to live like this any more!" I really believe it was a Christ experience. David and I were part of a study group called IMPACT. IMPACT was an acronym for I can't exactly remember anymore. The group was an adjunct to the Ecumenical Institute, in Chicago. During our studies, we learned how to make all our decisions Christ decisions. I found this concept SO freeing. I never had to labor over a decision again. I simply had to ask myself, what would Christ have done?. My life completely changed. My Mother could no longer reduce me to tears. My brothers noticed a difference in me. In fact, I sent a copy of our workbooks, "Man's Search for Meaningful Faith", to Merrill. This was a pivotal point in my life. I really don't know where to go with this thing. The rest has been so recent, that you remember most everything. But I do want to do some reminiscing about each of you. (As I already did). My last gift.